


Battlesong

by Quarra



Category: Valdemar Series - Mercedes Lackey
Genre: Changechild, Eventual Romance, F/M, Feels, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, K'Valdemar, M/M, Not Beta Read, Past Abuse, Post-Owl Knight, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sometime far far in the future, Torture, Trigger Warnings, Violence, sorry - Freeform, tags will be added as needed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-12 11:14:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5664103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quarra/pseuds/Quarra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something has breached the vale shields in K'Valdemar; something subtle and wrong. Firesong and Darian can feel it, but they can't find it, and it's driving them both a little batty. So far nothing seems awry, but how long can that last?</p>
<p>The Creature haunts K'Valdemar. His memories from Before are fractured. Echoes of people, things, and feelings that he no longer understands. After his Master died (was killed), the Creature knew he was twisted and evil, broken and remade by blood magic. He also knew that Healing Adepts were charged by their Goddess to fix things broken by magic. He remembered Healing Adept Firesong from Before, though only in passing. So to Firesong he went. But now the Creature doesn't know what to do. To approach would surely damage the vale, for he was made only to destroy. But waiting in shadows is equally distressing, and K'Valdemar is so peaceful...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Watching

**Author's Note:**

> Written because I have no life and a twisted mind. I'll try to keep the characters as accurate to the books as possible. Be gentle, it's my first time.

Healling Adept Firesong K'Treva was sorely tempted to grind his teeth. He and Darian Firkin K'Vala K'Valdemar, his protege and friend, sat in the lounging area of Firesong's ekele. Both of them were tired and frustrated from yet another useless magical search of the Vale. Firesong allowed himself a sigh and sipped on the cool mug of fruit juice that a kind hertasi had left for him. Darian sat across from him, his head sagging against the wall behind the willow chair and his eyes closed.

"Are we imagining this?" the younger mage asked. "Could this be...I don't know, some kind of stress induced phenomena?" 

Despite his weariness, Firesong's scarred face stretched into a smirk. "Unlikely. One of us, possibly. Everyone has moments where they are unsure. But for both of us to feel that something is off? No. This is..." he sighed. "This is just a puzzle that needs to be solved." Firesong's tone was light, but it hid a deeper worry. One he refused to share just yet. 

There was an edge to the vague miasma of wrongness that they two healing mages had been feeling, one that reminded Firesong of Falconsbane, though he couldn't pinpoint how or why. As of yet, Firesong didn't think that Darian had noticed that particular flavor to the magic. Despite his young age, Darian had already faced a great deal of adverse circumstances, but nothing like the foul degradation that a true Blood Adept was capable of. Darian might not recognize the specific nature of that kind of magic aside from the "wrongness" that comes with it. Firesong had done his best to prepare his protege as best he could, but training was ongoing and some things are only truly understood by experience.

Still, Firesong might be wrong. There were no additional signs of Blood magic being worked in the Vale. No deaths, or even accidents. No feeling of fear. No twisting of the natural life in and around the vale. There was only a brief flicker of something breaching the Veil shields and then this ambient sense of something being off. Hawkbrothers were well known for being abundant in mages, but only the two healing mages had sensed anything amiss. Part of that could be that they help set the Veil shields, but part of it could be the extra abilities that made them Healing Mages rather than just Mages.

Firesong soothed himself with the knowledge that if Blood magic were being actively preformed in the vale, he would KNOW. Darian may yet be a young master mage, but Firesong had been an adept for decades. There was no point in being uselessly alarmist, and revealing his worries too soon might taint the thought progression of his protege. It was easy for the mind to latch on to preconceived notions and he had no intention of contaminating Darian's ideas about what might be going on by leading him down the wrong path to start with. 

This whole moon had been a frustrating game of Chase the Ghost. Firesong and Darian had searched with magic, the healers and Herald Shandi help them search with Empathy, the hertasi and kree search by scent, the gryphons search by air, and every bondbird in the Vale was keeping an eye out in the trees. Firesong was rapidly coming to an end of clever ideas.

He took another sip of his drink and let the sweetness wash through him. "Well. We've done what we can for today. Besides, don't you have a council session to get to?" Firesong forced his face into a mask of light amusement.

Darian groaned a little, but hoisted himself out of the chair and took a minute to settle his appearance. He glanced at Firesong, "More meetings on top of this morning. You're a sadist."

A genuine smile flooded Firesong's face, "All good masters are. Have fun! We'll start the search again tomorrow morning, and this time we'll ask Tyrsell if he or another of the dyheli will help us search with mind magic."

Darian straightened a bit and nodded. "We should get the Heralds in on it, too. They may know techniques that Tyrsell doesn't." With a backward wave, Darian was off to his other responsibilities and Firesong was left with a weary sense of uneasiness. 

 

The Creature haunted the Vale. Most of the time he hid, quietly waiting through the day and stalking around at night. It is important to watch everything. Categorize potential threats. Observe targets (what targets no more targets). 

The day was so bright. It hurt his eyes. The Vale was filled with trees, taller trees than he had ever seen. They softened the light so it didn't burn so much. He still didn't like the daytime. It reminded him of how wrong he was. So he kept to deep shadows. He was mostly shadow himself, anyways.

He knew how to hide. The Creature was made to be able to stay hidden right under the noses of everyone in Haven. All the mages, all the heralds, all the healers, all the bards (stop, don't, it HURTS)... He had so much power. Easily enough to stop scent and to conceal. He could hear the heartbeats of the living things around him; sense their minds. He could smell the blood in their veins (AVERT no targets here). This was a busy place, but not any busier than Haven had been. 

He knew how to stalk, though stalking usually ended in killing and the Creature was very tired of screams. Nothing screamed here in the Vale. The Creature tried very hard not to sleep. Sleep was unsafe. Sleep brought nightmares. It had been many many days since the Creature knew sleep. 

The Creature had found the magic healer, Firesong, along with many other mages. And Heralds (fearkilldeath AVERT). He wanted to talk to them, to ask for...something. Maybe something good, or kind, but words didn't work well for him any more and Monsters Don't Deserve Kindness. He wanted to die, but he couldn't no matter how much he tried. He didn't think these quiet people with their pretty birds and pure horses would be able to do it. He wanted to be seen, but being seen ends in Correction. Or Display. The thought of the exotic hawkbrothers and the kind Heralds being involved with Correction or Display made him ill. 

He wanted to eat. But he was only allowed to eat when Master said, and Master was dead. Hunger gnawed at him.

Time to move again. A small group of birds getting too close. He shifted the shadows that always surrounded him and slipped through the dense foliage with out a whisper. They were very pretty birds. He wished he could touch them, but touching always ends in pain (his, theirs) or death (always theirs). He was so tired. So very tired.


	2. Just a Taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Firesong and Darian make some headway and the Creature finds something to eat.

Hunger was a vast empty void in the Creature's core. The quiet drone of whisper soft heartbeats from the inhabitants of the Vale fluttered in his ears. Every living thing that wandered near his hiding place smelled like food. It was early morning. The Creature could feel the Sun trembling at the horizon. The thought of facing another day of starvation and burning light made him shudder. 

But he wasn't allowed to eat until Master gave permission. But Master was dead. The thoughts went round and round, making him nearly whimper with anxiety. 

Time to move around. A bit of daytime reconnaissance would keep his mind occupied; net him further information. Watching and learning is critical for mission success (mission what mission?). 

Moving through the daylight hours undetected was trickier. The Creature let his mind flow into the empty place; the place where there was no thoughts, no needs. Only observation and action. He monitored everything around him: sights, smells, sounds. He paid attention to the feel of minds or emotions near him; tasted the flavor of them on the air. When there was an opening, he would move, ghost-like, from shadow to shadow.

Occasionally he relied on minor illusion to blend in, but for the most part that was unnecessary. While he did have a physical form that was (once) human, his essence extended beyond him in the form of a great black shadow. It covered him, armoring him, hiding him, and allowed him certain...abilities. Much like a cat's tail, it moved around him as needed with out much thought on his part, though he could change it on purpose with effort. Even if one of the inhabitants of the Vale were to see the Creature, he was so completely wrapped in his shadow armor that nothing but a pair of red eyes would be discernible. He also knew from experience that his very sharp teeth could been seen in the darkness when he smiled.

All of this helped him slip around the Vale unnoticed. As the day progressed, there were less deep shades to hide in and it became more and more difficult to move freely. Occasionally, someone would turn their head, catching movement out of the corner of their eyes. But when nothing was evident, a quick shake of the head or a slow squint of the area were all the evidence of his passage. 

Around early afternoon, the brightest (and worst) time for the Creature, he stopped in what looked like a quiet garden behind one of the large trees. A single dwelling lay nestled in the first ring of branches above. The ground underneath those branches was filled with a store room and aromatic plants. A small table and chair set graced the middle of the garden and an old male human puttered through the dwelling above. The air smelled...familiar. As the Creature rested in the shadow of a deep bush, he tried to place the scent. 

It was...something to be consumed, he thought. But the scent did not trigger his hunger the way the smell of blood did. Maybe it was something only real people could consume? The old litany ran through his head. Monsters Do Not Get Names. Monsters Do Not Deserve Kindness. Monsters Are Grateful For Correction....

He froze as he noticed a lizard person begin to set the table. These lizard people (hertasi his mind gave him, but how did he know that?) seemed to infest this wooded area. They were always moving things and fixing things, bringing food back and forth and cleaning. They sort of looked monstrous, but as he listened to them talk he learned they had names. They couldn't be monsters, then. People of some kind.

This one seemed to be older. It moved with a steady care that seemed to imply age, and it's leathery olive scales bore the wear of many years. It placed a pitcher and a cup on the table, as well as a tray of brightly colored juicy looking squares. Then it wandered up the nearby stairs to speak with the older human in the dwelling above. 

The Creature sniffed and flicked out his tongue to taste the air. Fruit! The tray held fruit! The memory hit him with all the force of a waterfall. Warm sunlight through rows of sweet smelling trees, their boughs heavy with apples. Laughing. People around him in fine clothes, arms loaded with baskets overflowing with the sweet pink orbs from the trees. A crunchy feeling in his mouth and then a burst of sweet tartness. 

Then it was gone. The lack of it left him gasping. The Creatures eyes watered and leaked and he wondered why. There, on the table. Apples. It wasn't blood and flesh, but he remembered eating them long ago. Before he was the Creature. Desire filled him and the rest of the world seemed to fall away for a moment. 

This thing, these apples, he ate them once with out the Master's say so. And he was not punished for it then. He didn't know how he knew that, but he knew in his bones. The hunger clawed at him. Maybe he could eat them again.

Before he was aware of it, he had crept up to the table and grabbed a slice of ruby red apple in his clawed hand. A little part of the back of his brain noticed that his shadows had receded a bit. His face felt bare and he could clearly see the shackle embedded in his wrist before his arm was swallowed in darkness. The Creature only had eyes for the apple slice though. He held it as if it was spun gold; so fragile that it might disappear at any moment. It smelled like heaven and dripped sweet juice down his talons.

His reverie was shattered by two startled yelps from the stairs ahead. The old man and the lizard person had walked down the stairs and were currently staring at him. The Creature's whole being sang with alarm.

Kill them! Flee! Hide! But...he was tired of the screaming. And this was the only place he had ever been with no screaming. If there was screaming it would be his fault. And there was the apple slice, still in his hand, nearly crushed in his indecision.

The old man stretched his mouth (that's called a smile), and spoke in a quiet voice, "It's alright. You can have as much as you want. No one is gonna hurt you." He was speaking the hawkbrother tongue, but somehow the Creature knew this and knew what the words meant as well. A memory fluttered in his mind but was shoved aside.

The Creature sat frozen for a moment longer, his mind racing. What if this human calls an alarm? Will the mages and the heralds and the guards come? They will come to hurt the Creature and bind him and punish him. His thoughts ran round and round.

The old man smiled a bit more and spoke softly again, "Go on, you can take it. My name is Bladebite and this is my friend Keena." He gestured toward the hertasi. 

The man's movement broke the Creature's indecision. His shadows wrapped around him in terror and he fled silent into the underbrush. He didn't stop moving until he was hidden deep in the trees of the Vale, shaking with panic.

His fear was so complete that it took him a while to notice that the partially crushed apple slice was still in his hand. It tasted like bliss.

 

Firesong sat just out of the practice grounds and sighed wearily. Scattered around him was Darian, Herald Shandi, Herald Mage Anda, and the stag king Tyrsell. The humans sat on cushions on the ground and the dyheli stood, more comfortable on his four hooves than he would have been lying on the ground. 

As was typical for a dyheli, Tyrsell spoke directly into the minds of those present. ::I am sorry Firesong, but I can sense nothing amiss with the minds in the Vale. A general search shows only many, many shielded minds here. I have the strength to breach those shields to investigate further but...::

"But that would be a gross violation of the privacy of everyone in the Vale," Herald Mage Anda sighed. "If we could articulate if something terrible was actually going on, well, we might be able to justify more drastic action. But as it rests..." He shook his head.

Darian nodded. "Agreed. All this shows us is that whatever is causing this...wrongness, it either doesn't have a mind or that mind is just as shielded as the rest of mindspeakers in the Vale."

Anda nodded. "Quite frankly, even isolating shielded minds won't really help us. There are simply too many here."

"What's that saying Captain Kerowyn has? Like hiding a red fish in a barrel of red fish?" Herald Shandi said ruefully. 

"Kero took that saying from the Shin'a'in she ran with," Firesong snorted.

Shandi paused for a moment, hesitance crossing her features for a moment before nodding to herself. Likely talking to her Companion, Karles, Firesong thought privately. After a moment, Shandi spoke up. "You know...I could try my Foresight. It's my strongest Gift, even if it is...somewhat unpredictable at times. But if something truly awful was going to happen, I could at least try to See it ahead of time."

Everyone seemed to perk up a bit at that thought. Darian spoke first, "That's a fabulous idea, and anything that might help shed some light on what's going on would be a real help." He ran a hand through his hair and looked as if he very badly wanted to tug some of it out. "Having this weird sense of something off all the time is starting to drive me crazy. At least if you get a strong vision we would know if it's going to blow up in our faces at some point."

Shandi laughed, "Trust me, anything that sweetens your temper will make my sister a very happy healer. If I have to hear one more time about you tossing and turning in bed..." she rolled her eyes. Darian had the grace to blush a tiny bit, but wisely said nothing.

Karles ghosted up behind Shandi. It never ceased to amaze Firesong how quietly a Companion could move, especially given it's rather inconvenient form. One wouldn't think that being a giant white horse with blue eyes would lend itself to being stealthy, but it apparently did. The gryphons were just as bad.

"I'll go ahead and start now. Might as well strike while the iron is hot, as they say. I'm not really sure how long this will take though. Foresight isn't always cooperative. Karles said that he can ground me and boost my Gift, but I'd appreciate it if one of you would stick around to keep an eye on me, just in case something untoward happens," she smirked.

Firesong and Darian both nodded. "We've got no where to be today."

Tyrsell tossed his head up and down once. ::I do have duties to attend to. Good luck on your search, and I am sorry I could not help more.:: The dyheli wandered off after that.

Herald Anda looked at them and shrugged. "I could hang around for a bit." He grinned, "You know, supervise."

And with that, Shandi moved into a more comfortable position and closed her eyes. Karles moved up to gently rest his nose on the top of her head. Firesong had watched, and even participated in, many such meditations and vigils, some even lasting for days at a time. Herald Anda, via his Companion and increased familiarity with Foresight, could more carefully monitor Shandi for signs of distress. Firesong and Darian would be able to intervene directly if her attempts produced results. 

Far, far sooner than Firesong would have guessed, Shandi started to speak. Her voice was distant and quiet; the distracted speech of someone completely focused on their task. "I see shadows...that move? There are things in the shadows. A flash. There is a man with long white hair, weeping, and blood is everywhere around him. I feel nothing but pain. Death. Another flash. The someone...someTHING smiling. It has sharp teeth. But I feel...joy? Another flash. The Vale. Same as today. Another Flash. Kittens? Someone is singing to kittens?"

They all wait in silence. After nearly a candlemark, Shandi slumps a bit and rubs her eyes. "I'm sorry, but that's all I can get."

Just then, everyone's head shoots up. Firesong feels a spark of that wrongness, moving fast through the Vale. He scrambles to his feet, but just as he is about to race out of the clearing, the feeling is gone. He looks across to the worried faces of the others and knows that he isn't the only one who felt it.

Darian looked like he was going to start tugging at his hair again. His face etched with worry as he said, "Felt like magic. Something broken. Something...I don't know. Wounded."

Anda piped up, "Definitely magic, though that's about all I could tell."

Shandi put an arm around Karles neck, leaning on his strength. She looked haggard and on the verge of tears. "Terror. All I felt was terror."

Firesong looked between them all and sighed, "Well, hell."


	3. A Little Light Shines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discussions take place. Apples are highly desirable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone who even reads this, you are amazing.

In Firesong's opinion, Herald Mage Anda looked very much like he wanted to be swearing. Not that Firesong could blame him. Their mysterious guest remained at large.

"Well, on the bright side we have confirmation that there is actually someone here. And it's a someone rather than a something," Darian mused. What was left of the Vale search party sat in Firesong and Silverfox's ekele, nibbling on tidbits left by Ayshen. They had all spent their afternoon and part of the evening combing over the Vale once more; results remained the same. The cause of the disturbance was clearly back in hiding again and the best anyone could witness to was seeing a strange shadow moving through the trees. Most of the small group that were conscripted to help with the search had already retired elsewhere, including Herald Shandi, Snowfire, and even Starfall. Darian and Anda ended up following Firesong home.

Silverfox tapped his knee thoughtfully with a graceful finger and said, "I also think that this person is not as big a risk as they could be." Blank stares and raised eyebrows spread across the room. "Think about it. Darian, you said that the presence felt wounded. Shandi said it was afraid. I think if who-ever-this-is was here to harm us, they likely would have already."

Anda snorted. "Or we just haven't see what's it's goal really is yet. Maybe someone else here found it out first and managed to hurt it? Maybe stumbled across it's hiding spot. Is anyone missing from the Vale?"

Ayshen took that moment to stick his tail into things and said, "Not that the Hertasi know of and this is exactly the kind of thing we keep track of. By the way Firesong, you have visitors. Shall I show them up?" Ever the multitasker, Ayshen also dropped off another pitcher of sweet tea while he spoke.

Faint surprise flitted through Firesong. Silverfox often got visitors, but he wasn't expecting any clients tonight. Most of the people that Firesong interacted with on a regular basis were in the search party earlier today. He shot a quick look at Silverfox, saw his beloved shrug a bit, and then nodded at the Hertasi. 

Up the stairs came an elderly Tayledras man followed by an equally elderly Hertasi. The man smiled upon entering the room, his face a wreath of wrinkles. A snow while barred owl bond bird drowsed upon his shoulder. "Healing Adept Firesong, you have my thanks for seeing us. And interrupting your company to do so."

Firesong stood to greet them. "How may I be of service?"

The old man smiled again and said, "My name is Bladebite, and this is Keena. I think we may have some insight to your little problem. Ah, may I sit? My knee has seen kinder years and a good chair is one of my favorite things." Firesong gestured at the remaining chairs in the room and seated himself again. At the possibility for some answers, the general air of the room had gone from mildly depressed to hyper alert. 

Keena rolled her eyes and snorted. "A good chair has been your favorite thing since you were a hatchling. It's a wonder you were ever made a scout with how lazy you are," she replied acidly. Bladebite merely snickered a bit to himself while they both got comfortable.

"You're looking for a changechild. One that used to be a young man by the looks of things." Bladebite became rather somber. "And he looks like he's on the run."

Everyone in the room seemed to lean forward a bit to listen. "How did you find him, what happened?" Darian asked.

Bladebite explained the encounter earlier that day. After his report, he sighed.

"The poor lad looked...Goddess bless us, but I was a scout all of my life, most of that in far more dangerous lands than these. I have seen many terrible things. Terrible people, too. But this...what ever this lad was Changed into was taken from a template I have never even heard of. It was nothing remotely natural. The shadows around him seemed alive. There were shackles embedded in his neck and on his wrists. He looked starving. Badly damaged." Bladebite's mouth twisted as if he tasted something bitter. "What little I could see of his skin was filthy, and I'm fairly sure that most of that was dried blood. He just wanted a piece of apple. He was so thin." The old man looked at them pleadingly.

At this point, Herald Anda did swear. Creatively. 

After a moment, Bladebite continued, "I plan on trying to lure him back. I'll be leaving out more fruit in hopes that he'll come around. I thought you all should know what I found, given your search, but I'd like to request that you don't interfere."

"You can't be serious," Herald Anda replied.

"He is quite serious, my boy," Keena responded back. "This man was clearly made as a weapon. The claws on his hands would rival a cold drakes and nothing benign moves like he did. His teeth looked razor sharp and who knows what else is hiding under all that shadowy stuff. We only saw his face and hands. He saw us right out in the open, plain as day. An evil creature would have eliminated witnesses. And trust me, if this fellow had wanted us dead, he could have killed us both and been gone before our bodies hit the ground." Her eyes glinted. "Besides, I think you all have more important things to worry about."

"She's right," Firesong agreed. Darian shot him a puzzled look. "Whoever made that Changechild is probably out there looking for him. We need to prepare for the possibility that their search will lead them here."

"You don't think he was made from one of the Change Circles and then bound?" Silverfox asked.

Bladebite shook his head. "Unlikely. There was the tang of Blood Magic about him. I've seen it enough times to recognize it, but my mage craft is minimal. I couldn't tell you anything beyond that. Besides. He looked...crafted. Finished, if that makes any sense. There was nothing haphazard about his modifications."

The nagging familiarity in Firesong's mind snapped into focus. This is why he was reminded of Falconsbane. It was the feeling of something built, Changed, from the power of pain and spilled blood. 

Darian nodded. "Emergency council session, then. We need to work out additional defenses," he said, then paused to consider things for a moment. "Scouts need to be put on alert. We'll have to discuss what additional magical measures we have the spare energy to put into place. Guarding the Heartstone is a priority, but Errold's Grove is a fairly juicy target as well; all those people with no mages and few fighters. We also need to alert our allies. A runner needs to be sent to the Ghost Cat Tribe. And the Healer's Sanctuary." Darian was clearly in his element now. Firesong had always regarded him as an intelligent, thoughtful, and thorough young man, but he was also a natural leader. That was part of what made the young mage a spectacular addition to the council. That, and he was the founder of the Vale.

"I don't think we need to panic quite yet," Firesong added. "It seems unlikely that so heavily modified a Changechild would be allowed to roam free for long. The fact that he's been here for a moon already and we haven't seen any problems is promising. But additional precautions are definitely in order. I think I'll join you for the council session. I might be able to lend some insight into what kind of attacks we may need to repel. After that, I will be coming over to your ekele, Bladebite." Firesong wagged a finger at him. "Just because you don't think that this man will kill you doesn't mean that you're not in additional danger. Once his panic has calmed, he may decide to come back and finish the job. And lack of intent to kill doesn't mean he isn't dangerous."

Bladebite smiled a bit ruefully at him. "Fair enough," he said. 

Ayshen had wandered in some time during the conversation. "Sliced fruit, huh. We could leave some out in unattended places. See if the Changechild bites at the bait, so to speak," he added. "He may not have been taking food from the eating pavilions due to risk of being seen. Or he may have been taking food from there already and we simply haven't noticed. It's accessible to everyone by design, after all."

Firesong nodded in agreement. "Possibly. I'd rather have him able to eat with out feeling threatened. That will help minimize any risk of interacting with the inhabitants here. Something like that could go badly very quickly."

"If you don't mind, Bladebite, I'd like to spend some time talking with you and Keena," Silverfox said. "People who are victims of extreme trauma can act strangely, even unpredictably, at times. Especially those recovering from violent or abusive situations. I have some things I'd like to suggest to you."

After an initial raised eyebrow, Bladebite agreed. "I'd be happy to have some additional advice." Keena was clearly about to say something sarcastic, but Bladebite silenced her with a good-natured glare.

Firesong rose from his seat. "Well friends, shall we get to it?"

 

The Creature fretted. The slice of apple had done nothing to fill the aching void within him. In fact, it only seemed to make the gnawing hunger worse. It was day time again. He was so tired and it was so bright out. Even beneath the thick trees, the clear blue sky felt like a great weight pressing down upon him. It smothered him like a vast blanket held down by the boulder of the Sun, crushing him. Making it hard to breath. He felt like he should be hot, but a deep cold filled his bones. The Creature was filled with a wasteland of ice.

He remembered the old man. How his face stretched. That was...familiar (smiles, remember?). He thought of the mostly forgotten memory of trees and apples and laughter. The old man had said he could take what he wanted. He had permission. He was allowed.

It was likely a trap. 

But. Apples. 

In much less time than the Creature thought possible, he was back in the shadows of the old man's garden. There were more sliced apples on the little garden table, and the old man was again in the dwelling above.

The Creature waited and watched. There were new spell things on the dwelling; searing white energy that seemed to offer both danger and safety. But there was none of that on the garden table. There was no taste or smell of magic anywhere in the garden, and at this point the Creature had become very attuned to the taste and smell of coercive magic.

He waited for the old man to leave. Waited for the feel of minds to go away, the sound of heartbeats to fade from the immediate area.

The Creature quietly stepped out, watching everything around him, on guard for any attack. Faster than a blink, he had a handful of apple slices and had disappeared back into the bushes in the garden. 

His eyes leaked again while he quietly munched on them. He wasn't sure why. It felt like something in his chest had uncoiled; like a release of tension he didn't know was there. 

The apple slices were gone far too quickly, and the old man had returned to check on the garden table. The Creature was surprised when the old man did not fill with rage at the loss of the apples. He wasn't violent, or even coldly fuming. Instead his face stretched into a smile again. Why?

The old man went back to his dwelling for a moment, but quickly returned with more fruit to place on the little table. He looked around the garden. The Creature stilled in the shadows. It was unlikely the old man would be able to sense him, but the action was reflexive at this point. 

"You're welcome to take as much as you'd like. I'll keep putting out more. You can also come say hello to me too. I won't hurt you. I'd just like to be friends," the old man said. Rather loudly, too, as if he thought the Creature might be hard of hearing. Or maybe very far away.

The Creature sat in the quiet shadows of the bushes and puzzled about what this meant.


	4. Stepping Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More fruit is eaten. A conversation is started. Progress is made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for some self harm and short, unpleasant, and mildly graphic flashbacks.

The days repeated themselves for a while. The shadows of the old man's quiet garden were deep and soothing. Fruit was always left on the table, and in greater variety as time passed. The Creature still coveted apples above all, but he was learning to try other foods as they were available. He dared not take too much, too often, still wary of a trap. But no such thing manifested.

As blissful as the freely available food was, the gnawing hunger never quite left the Creature. The sun light lost some of its weight, though, and the cold numbness within him began to thaw into pain. A thousand aches assaulted him and the need to sleep lodged itself like hooks in his bones. 

The old man (what was his name? he is a person and people get names) spoke into his garden often, inviting the Creature to stay, talking of himself and life at the Vale. It was...calming. There were moments where the Creature would become suddenly alert with no idea where he was or how he got there, only to discover that he had been quietly listening to the old man talk.

Sometimes the Creature wished he could talk back to the old man. Ask him questions. Do...something. There was a feeling, or a memory, just out of reach. The fleeting thought of sharing and comfort. Long talks next to a fire on a secluded shore. It filled the Creature with want and longing. But Monsters Do Not Speak Without Permission. For a moment the whole litany of commands cycled through his mind. After the fourth repetition he was able to stop and drag his thoughts away. He felt like he might shatter his teeth from clenching his jaw so tightly (please don't hurt don't want I'll be good).

Just thinking about attempting to break the cover of the garden left the Creature shuddering. The world would grow dark and he would be back there. Chained to a ceiling, left to hang for moons at a time. Starving in the endless darkness. Shoulders dislocating from the stress. Skin being stripped off his flesh only to regrow nearly instantly. Molten glass dripping down his frame, burning him to the bone. Salt water being dumped over him afterwards, shattering the instantly cooled glass into tiny shards. Hands touching him. Hurting him. Using him. Screams.

The Creature struggled to remain silent. His Master would find him and punish him. Digging his talons into his arms and legs helped him focus. The pain was grounding as well as familiar. It was just.

He reminded himself his Master was dead. Beyond the ability to inflict Corrections.

Every day the old man brought more food. Talked out loud to himself. Smiled. Offered comfort and safety. Sometimes the old lizard female would join him, sometimes not.

The war within the Creature was overwhelming. Hide or be seen. Stay safe and sit in agony or step out and be caged again. He wanted to be safe so badly. Gritting his teeth and clutching his arms, he decided. 

The old man (names try to remember) was sitting at the table, nibbling on a carrot, and gently speaking into the air. The words meant nothing to the Creature. He couldn't concentrate on them. Ever fiber of his being was focused on stepping out of the shadows (don't think just walk).

He was greeted with a wide smile.

 

Ayshen frantically waved at Firesong and Darian from the edge of the shielded practice grounds. Firesong dismissed his normal irritation at being interrupted. Mage work was delicate, dangerous, and required enormous focus, but Ayshen would only bother them if something serious had happened.

Firesong nodded at him and guided Darian through the proper dismissals of the energy in mid-use. The work at hand was delicate, but nothing that couldn't be redone tomorrow. Besides, the practice would do him good.

As soon as the mages got within range, Ayshen nearly burst with the news, "Bladebite requests your immediate presence Firesong. He's talking with the Changechild and convinced him to speak with you!"

Firesong's eyebrows reached his hairline under the mask. "Really? He actually got him to come out of hiding? And meet with someone new so quickly? That is excellent news." There had been no incidents in the fortnight since Firesong had gone to reinforce the shielding on Bladebite's ekele. He had heard that the fruit was being quietly taken, but that was all so far. He glanced sideways at Darian for a moment. "Ah-"

Darian grinned a bit and waved him off. "With as skittish as this fellow is, it's better to introduce new people slowly." His expression turned somber. "Do what you can and let me know how I can help. K'Valdemar is supposed to be more than just an meeting point, it's a safe haven too."

Darian's words filled Firesong with warmth. The adept was very proud of his pupil. 

As they made their way quickly through the Vale, Ayshen caught him up. "The Changechild has been sitting with him for about a candlemark. I haven't seen him yet, but I gather most of the conversation has been on Bladebite's side of things. Here, take food with you. Everyone likes food and Bladebite's bird says the man is as thin as a willow sapling."

Firesong took the laden tray from the hertasi settled himself briefly before entering the garden. He'd worked with victims of abuse before, both magical and non-magical. Being calm and collected would help keep the Changechild from panicking, something that would likely end very badly for all involved.

He breathed deeply, centering himself. Now that he was so close, he could feel the faint hint of wrongness that had permeated the Vale strengthen. Whatever the Changechild had done to hide himself so efficiently had weakened a bit, by either accident or design. Or perhaps it was simply his reaction to proximity. He took another moment to acclimate to the feeling of almost-nausea the wrongness caused, and then walked along the path into the garden.

"Ah, here's my good friend, Firesong. You remember, the one I told you would be coming? He's very kind and I know he would like to be your friend, too." Bladebite smiled at his company.

The Changechild was perched on the edge of a chair, as far away from the old scout as he could manage it while still being in reach of the food on the table. Most of his body was hidden under a mass of undulating shadows. Abyssal, Firesong thought worriedly to himself. Traditionally, the Tayledras didn't interact with entities from other planes. Beyond the Starry Eyed Goddess, Her Avatars, and Her Servants, that is. After years of working with the combined mages of the Alliance, however, Firesong had a fairly good idea of what was possible in that regard. For many centuries the Mage Priests of the Sunlord of Karse summoned what they called Demons; entities of great evil that normally resided in the Abyssal Plane. With the coming of the new Son of the Sun, that practice had been declared anathema and the texts associated with it burned. That was only a few years ago, though, and the knowledge was still fresh. Never had Firesong ever heard of one of those creatures, or any other extraplanar being for that matter, being mixed with a human body. Who in the Freezing Hells did this?

Firesong kept his concerns masked under a pleasant demeanor. Even if most of his face was covered with a mask, body language would go a long way toward communicating that he wanted this to be a peaceful encounter. He paused a bit before sitting down at the table and scooting his tray of new food onto the table. Better to give their wary guest a chance to see what he was doing.

"Good afternoon," he said smiling. "My name is Firesong. I'm a Healing Adept and I am very pleased to meet you."

The Changechild's glaze stuttered around him, never looking at Firesong directly. Heavy shadows slowly undulated around his body, completely covering him in a solid mass of black. Only the tips of his clawed hands and the center of his face were visible. The black miasma blended with his hair and drifted off of his skull in short waves. There was the suggestion of something on the his back, almost a humped shape. Though downcast, Firesong could see that the Changechild's eyes were solid orbs of red and black. Occasionally a tendril of shadow would slither across the pale white skin on his face and pool around his eyes. The effect was rather disconcerting. A strawberry was gently clutched in his heavy black talons, almost like he had picked it up but then completely forgot what to do with it.

There was something naggingly familiar about the man's face. He paused for a moment, waiting for the memory to slot into place.

"We've met before, haven't we? At the Queen's Court in Haven?" Firesong asked.

The Changechild's eyes flickered up to Firesong's face for a moment and then seemed to loose focus. He chewed a bit on his lower lip and hesitantly nodded once. Firesong noticed his teeth were all sharpened to fangs.

"It was just after we all arrived with Elspeth. I was being introduced to your parents, I think. You're Bard Rinn, aren't you?"

At the mention of the name the Changechild dropped to the ground, shaking and moaning in low gravelly Valdemarian, "No, no, no, please, no don't, hurt, please, didn't mean, stop, STOP..." He clawed into the mulched dirt digging up huge gouges of earth.

Firesong cursed himself internally and sat on the ground next to the poor man, not daring to touch but wishing he could. He spoke low and soothingly in Valdemarian. "Heyla, everything is alright. I won't hurt you. No one here will hurt you. You're safe. We're here to help..."

The next quarter candlemark was heartbreaking. Firesong and Bladebite both kept up the litany of soft words while their guest huddled and panicked in front of them. Clearly he was expecting some kind of punishment for the mention of his name. Firesong wanted to destroy whoever did this. Whoever turned the bright handsome young man he met years ago into this fearful wreck shivering on the ground. How would he ever be able to Heal this? How would he ever be able to get close enough to start?

Eventually, Rinn quieted, still sunk into a ball on the ground. Firesong couldn't make out any of his features any more; everything was covered in a blanket of shadow. After a time, some of the shadow parted and Firesong was able to make out Rinn's face pressed into the dirt behind his crossed arms. "S-s-s-sorry. Sorry," he whispered. 

Firesong forced himself to smile again. "It's alright. You don't need to be sorry. We're not mad. Alright?"

Rinn just continued to sit, shivering a bit.

"Can you tell me what just happened? Why you were afraid?"

A shudder rippled through the shadows. "Monsters do not get names. Monsters do not deserve kindness. Monsters are grateful for correction. Monsters do not speak without permission..." The voice was cracked and harsh, with strange sub harmonies with every sound.

Every word was a splinter hammered into Firesong's heart. This was wrong. Evil. He interrupted, "Shhh. No. You are not a monster. You are NOT. You can have a name if you want. It doesn't even have to be that name. No one here will ever punish you for that." Firesong cursed himself again and tried a different tactic. Silverfox was so much better at talking to people.

"Will you stay with us here? You'll be safe here," Firesong pleaded. 

One red eye glanced up at him from behind the screen of shadowy arms. "No chains?"

"No. No one here will ever chain you. You're free to come and go as you please, when ever you want."

The silence stretched for a long moment.

"Safe?"

Firesong nodded. Bladebite interjected with, "Absolutely safe here, my lad. And as much food as you want. We'd be happy to have you." He smiled kindly. "Please? It's awfully nice to have someone to talk to, and I don't get out nearly as much as I used to."

Another long pause and then Rinn nodded and said, "Alright."

Firesong sighed with relief. One hurdle down.


End file.
